The Debt
by mask of roses
Summary: She was indebted to him, she realized, dismay clouding her mind. And it was a terrible debt, one that threatened to consume her like thorny vines ensnaring her soul. It was a debt impossible to repay- unless... Dramione
1. Chapter 1

My first DMXHG fanfic. Hope you all like it

Disclaimer: Harry Potter- so not mine.

As the young brunette girl sat on the window ledge of the currently empty owlery, gazing outside at the waning moon in the midnight sky, she softly hummed a tune. The faint silvery light of the moon shone on her bushy brown hair and illuminated the pale skin on her left cheek. She smiled up at glowing white orb- her companion in the night.

"You're beautiful" she whispered to it.

"Yes. It is."

She jumped up, startled out of her dreamy reverie by the low strong tone of someone behind her. Her eyes widened.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?"

He smirked at her, that trademark Malfoy smirk. "I could ask you the same thing. Out of bed at such a late hour- what could the perfect Gryffindor Queen be doing so secretly?"

"I'm not doing anything wrong!" She stated, narrowing her eyes. "Though, I highly doubt you can say the same."

"Last time I checked, wandering around after-hours was definitely something_ wrong_. So, I suppose that would make the two of us sinners." His smirk turned into a slight smile as he seated himself on the window seat.

"Which also means that neither of us will get into trouble- as long as we're not caught, of course." She replied. She looked at him, a slight frown appearing on her brow.

"I know the moonlight makes me appear even more dazzling than usual, but honestly, Granger, didn't your Mummy ever teach you that it's rude to stare?

She rolled her eyes. "Malfoy, there is nothing even the slightest bit handsome about your blonde and thin-faced countenance that would even induce me to look at you any more than necessary."

His smile widened into a grin as he came closer towards her. "Are you sure about that, Granger?" His quicksilver-grey eyes fixed on her ones, his warm minty breath fanning her face, his whole presence surrounding her...

She glared at him, ignoring the rush of blood warming her cheeks, and shoved him away. "Didn't your Mummy ever teach you not to intrude into someone's personal space?" She mimicked him.

"Oh come on, Granger, even you can't deny that you find me attractive. Look at that glorious blush on your cheeks- that tells it all." He said, triumphant.

"Not—

Something enormous came flying and collided against the window, smashing into it with tremendous force, shattering glass and rock everywhere. Hermione cringed, as she felt herself move, preparing for the pain that was to follow; instead she felt muscular arms wrapped around her frame, as Malfoy grabbed her and swiftly rolled them both away from the perilous site.

Still holding onto her, he quickly moved them both close to the door and made her lean against the wall. "Are you okay?" he panted, pushing her against the stone with one hand, while he pressed himself as close as he could to the barrier, as though he wanted to melt into the shadows.

She nodded, unable to say a word, her eyes wide-alert.

"Okay, then, listen to me… we need to get out of here- more of those things might come. Press yourself close to wall and get out of here as fast as you can." He whispered urgently. She swallowed, then nodded.

"Good. Now, go!"

"What about you?"

"I'll be right behind you."

Giving him a last glance, she pulled open the door, and slowly crawled out, trying to keep within the dark shadows. His soft pants behind her assured her of his presence. Breathing a sigh of relief, she inched herself onto the first step of the stairway.

All at once, the wooden door ripped off its hinges as blinding white light poured out; the sudden rushing sound of an explosion filled her mind and she felt herself thrown down, like a limp rag doll, against the stone steps. Her head hit the cold stone with a sickening thud. Sheer pain scorched through her, but disappeared all too soon along with her consciousness.

Yet as she felt herself fall into the darkness, she numbly realized Malfoy was still in the owlery.

Too late.

Her head hurt- hurt like hell, actually. She was loath to open her eyes, but the very irritating whispering around her wasn't really helping her to get any sleep. Ever so slowly, she cracked open one eye.

"Harry, she's awake!" a very familiar voice exclaimed- Ron. She smiled sleepily up at the blurry red-haired figure in front of her.

"Ron." She turned her head slightly to see a very concerned Harry sitting by her, holding her hand. "Harry" she acknowledged him. His worried frown relaxed into a small smile.

"Hey," he said.

"How are you feeling, Mione?"Ron asked.

"Like I could do with some more sleep. Really, you guys whisper so loudly."

"Come on, you've been asleep for the past two days! We were getting seriously worried about you- thought you were going to become a Sleeping Beauty." Ron grinned at her, teasing. Hermione groaned.

"God, I must have missed so much. I'll need to take the notes-"

"Don't worry about it now. Just try and get some rest." Harry assured her. Ron chuckled at that typical reaction from her; she was going to be fine, he realized, relieved.

"Anyways, we have to go now. See you later." said Harry. Giving her a quick hug, the two walked away.

"Oh yeah." Ron paused at the door. "Dumbledore and McGonagall will probably be coming to see you in the evening. About what happened?" He said the last part like a question; obviously both of them were curious about that night.

That night. Everything- the owlery, moonlight, collision… explosion- it all flooded into her mind, like a movie fast-forwarded, flashing before her eyes.

"Malfoy." She breathed his name, dread seeping into her

"It's good to see you finally awake, Mr. Malfoy"

Draco looked up as Madam Pomfrey came in, parting the curtains around his bed.

"How are you feeling now?" she asked as she poured some dark green liquid into a small glass.

"Awful" he muttered. "It hurts when I breathe." He pressed his hand against his chest, feeling the bandages wrapped around it under his nightshirt. He must have broken couple of ribs when he was thrown against the wall.

"Well, let's hope this makes you feel a little better." She handed him the glass. He stared at it warily, then screwing his face, he downed the nasty substance. An acrid taste briefly filled his mouth before he felt the immediate ebbing of pain from his ribs.

"Yeah, that's better." He sighed, relieved.

"Let's get you something to eat, then, shall we?" she smiled at him and pushed away the curtains separating him from the rest of the hospital wing, so the fading sunlight of dusk streamed in and lit up his bed. Glancing up, he saw a pale-faced, bushy haired someone staring at him from the opposite bed- Granger.

"Malfoy…" she muttered his name, unable to take her eyes off him. She swallowed then croaked out, "You're alive?"

"As you can obviously see- I am." He replied snidely. She didn't reply; instead she slowly got out of her bed and came over to his side, barefoot.

"I thought you were dead." She whispered. He glanced up at her with those piercing silver eyes. Her own eyes were large with glad surprise, the faint light making them glisten. _Or it could be from tears_, he thought, noticing that the tip of her nose was pink and she sniffed slightly. But that was ridiculous- Hermione Granger would never cry for him.

"I'm fine." He replied, forgetting to come up with a sarcastic comeback. He watched as a small grin appeared on her face, chasing away the anxiety in her expression and the telltale sorrow in her eyes.

Suddenly, as though realizing what exactly she was doing, she turned her gaze away.

"Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall are going to come and see us a bit later; to ask about what happened. Frankly, I have no idea what happened up there. What about you?"

"I have no need to tell you anything, Granger." He snapped, abruptly returning to his usual self.

"So, basically you don't have a clue either." She replied nonchalantly, ignoring his harsh tone. She smirked. "No need to hide your ignorance, Malfoy."

"Do you honestly think I'm going to fall for that old trick?" he scoffed at her attempts to taunt an answer out of him.

"Oh no, I wasn't trying to get a rise out of you- just stating facts." She replied innocently.

Yeah, right.

Just then the doors burst open, and two imposing professors swept into the room; McGonagall and Dumbledore with his long hair and robes flowing in his wake. Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes- the old man just had to make a grand entrance- even into the hospital wing.

"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger." He greeted them, acknowledging them with a nod of his head.

"Good evening, Professor." Granger greeted him respectfully, while Draco nodded his head. The professors pulled up chairs and seated themselves; she simply sat down at the edge of his bed.

"I trust the two of you are feeling better." McGonagall spoke first. They nodded.

"Well, I'll get straight to the point. Last night, something attacked the castle, and unfortunately, it targeted the room where the two of you were." said Dumbledore. A faint blush appeared on Granger's cheeks- she was obviously thinking of the fact that they were there after hours. He hid a smirk, wondering what McGonagall thought of her ideal pupil.

"So, Mr. Malfoy, do you have any idea what could have attacked the school?" The Headmaster directed his disconcerting gaze on him.

"Umm… no, Professor. I have no idea."

"And you ?"

She shook her head. "It all happened so fast- I didn't see anything."

"I see." He sighed and rose up along with McGonagall.

", ; I hope you feel better soon." He uttered, and with a swish of their robes, the two elders left.

Draco and Granger sat in silence for a while longer, before she too stood up to leave.

"Hey, Malfoy?"

"What?"

Giving him a covert glance she muttered, "I'm glad you're not dead." Before he could say anything, she had slipped away, past the flimsy curtains.

He shook his head in disbelief- Granger must have hit her head really hard.

Please review- and let me know if you want to read more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: HP- not mine, never was (sigh)**

Draco sighed and fell onto his bed, exhausted from the mere exertion of walking back to his dorm. Madame Pomfrey had finally allowed him to leave the hospital wing, once his ribs had been fixed, but his body was still recuperating from the loss of energy it required for swift healing.

A light tapping against his window made him glance up- it was Astra, his magnificent eagle-owl. With a groan, he pulled himself up and let her in. She immediately hopped into the warmth, shaking off water droplets from her glistening silver-grey head. Her dark beady eyes seemed to look up at him imperiously, as she held out her leg. A white-envelope was attached to it- he recognized his mother's handwriting on it at once.

He ran a hand through his hair, all sorts of probable situations playing in his mind. She wouldn't write unless something had happened.

Swiftly he tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter. His eyes darted across the page, devouring the words, sating his fearful curiosity.

"Thank goodness."

Astra hooted softly, turning to him as he spoke. She was waiting for her treats. Absentmindedly, he reached into the packet in his bedside table and fed her one, the letter lying limp in his hands- relief mingled with hopelessness flooded through him as he skimmed her words again.

She said she had gotten someone to help him with his mission- she was hopeful; she was sure that Draco was in less danger now. Well, at least she would worry less now, he thought. He knew who she had asked for help, But Draco wouldn't- couldn't- take help from him. It was too dangerous. He had to do this by himself.

Sighing once more, he lifted the letter to his face and breathed in the faint scent of lavender. Closing his eyes he remembered his mother as she said goodbye to him before he boarded the train for Hogwarts. She had been terrified, he knew, from the way she clasped his hand too tightly; the way her face suddenly seemed older, worry lines etched on her skin. To the rest of the world, she had appeared, cold and unyielding- as a Malfoy always should.

" Malfoy… what does the name mean now?" he bitterly asked himself. They were lowered, such that his father rotted in Azkaban, his mother lived in constant wretched fear… and himself? Reduced to a common m-

"Oi, Malfoy!" He glanced up sharply- it was Blaise. The dark Italian boy grinned down at him.

"You okay? You've been in the hospital wing for the past week. Pansy's been worried sick"

"I'm fine" he muttered quietly. Blaise frowned at his tone, and glanced at the letter in his hand.

"Is everything alright with your mum?"

"For now- yes."

Blaise lingered for a moment, then left, leaving Draco to his thoughts. His mind wandered back to last night… to Granger. A slight smirk twisted his lips- she had been disconcerted by his light, almost friendly teasing; his upper lip curled- as if he would ever be friendly to a Mudblood without reason.

But he had a plan. And he needed her, as much as he hated to admit it, as much as it stung him with shame.

That explosion had been a most welcome interruption- he had saved her. Draco Malfoy, pureblood, Slytherin prince, had saved Hermione Granger, the mudblood, the Gryffindor Queen. Well, that would rattle her- she would be burning with curiosity, absolutely confused as she pondered why he would do something like that.

She was vital for the success of his mission. Now that she had a debt to pay, it would be much easier for him, to extract all the information he needed from her.

He reached over and petted Astra's head. She turned and looked up at her master's fair face; a small smile graced his countenance.

"Even broken ribs are better than befriending a Mudblood- eh, Astra?"

__

"I told you!" Harry exclaimed, as Hermione ended her narration of the strange occurrences of last night.

"You told us what, Harry?" she was starting to get annoyed with Harry's theory that Malfoy was a Death Eater- it was simply ludicrous, yet Harry was intent on proving that it was true.

"Simply, because he acted unusually nice, and helped me over there, doesn't mean he's a Death Eater."

"Exactly my point." He pounced on her words. "Hermione, he wasn't being his typical bastard-self- what other reason does he have to be nice to you unless he has some underlying evil plan."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Good point" Ron nodded at Harry, a frown forming on his brow.

"Look, it would have looked really bad on Malfoy if something had happened to me over there, but he had been unharmed. So it makes perfect sense why he helped me out. But…" she drifted off.

"But?" asked Ron.

"It doesn't make sense, why he was being all pleasant and chatty before that explosion. Mind you, he was typically surly in the hospital wing again."

"Maybe he was drunk." Suggested Ron.

Hermione shrugged. "Could be." Harry shook his head at them, like a father at his wits end with his gullible children.

"Oh Harry, quit obsessing with Malfoy. He's not worth it."

"If he's been made a Death Eater, he could be dangerous."The dark-haired boy's eyes glinted in the dying fire's light. Hermione's smile dropped, as she glanced at Ron. As though, he could read the concern in her eyes, he abruptly pulled out a Quidditch magazine and tossed it to Harry.

"Latest issue, mate. Fred sent it to me- said it had some good tactics we could try out." He grinned.

The two started discussing Quidditch, leaving Hermione to her books- she had been making up for the classes she had missed. She glanced down at the words not really reading them- Malfoy had been acting too nice before the explosion- scarily nice. In fact, one could even say he was mildly flirting with her, going on about his looks as he had; she screwed up her nose at that terrifyingly repulsive thought.

He had to be drunk- that was the most logical explanation.

She returned to her books, intent on studying for another hour. Harry and Ron soon got up to go to bed. As they left the common room, they stopped to lean down and give her a quick hug.

"There's one thing I'm thankful for- that you're okay." Harry spoke into her hair, as she hugged him back.

"Yeah." Ron agreed, though he grimaced.

"Merlin, but couldn't it have been anyone other than _Malfoy_, who saved you?"

Hermione smiled weakly at them, as Ron's words filled her with a dreaded realization.

**Please read and review! And if the characters are too OOC… let me know. Constructive criticism always appreciated **


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